


Liberosis

by DoubleX



Category: Gaming RPF, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, But probably nice things, I will update these, Just read it tbh, M/M, Violence, Watchverse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2018-12-19 21:25:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11906508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoubleX/pseuds/DoubleX
Summary: liberosisn. the desire to care less about things - to loosen your grip on your life, to stop glancing behind you every few steps, afraid that someone will snatch it from you before you reach the end zone.~~~My excuse for not updating! The writer of Monachopsis, a beautifully original work, gave me permission to write in the same trope they thought up (I'm already calling it the watchverse. What a nerd.) I hope you like it!





	1. Obligatory Meta

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Monachopsis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11700054) by [QWERTYouAndMe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QWERTYouAndMe/pseuds/QWERTYouAndMe). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for some meta! Some of this is from the original fic, but some of it is stuff I presumed and some of it I made up because it works. For example, I take no credit for the ingenious WATCH acronym but deeply apologise for adding the sexual aspect of things of my own volition. Let's get meta! :o

**From "Your Negative and You: Thirtieth Edition (© "WATCHout: Information and Help for Young People and Their Negatives Since 1969" 2017)**

**1)**   **The Premise**

The Watchverse is set around a deceptively simple concept - that everyone has a dark side. Not a metaphorical dark side, or a spiritual one - a literal manifestation of your negative traits, amplified to infinity and given a face. Quite fittingly, these are known as 'negatives'.

In a watchverse world, this is normal. At best, a minor inconvenience. At worst...well. A negative will begin to quite literally manifest around the age of eighteen, at which point it will often be harmless as explained below.

 

 **2)**   **The Negative**

You could be a terrible person, or an absolute angel, or anything in between - you have negative, and it is the worst version of you. We're talking murderers, sociopaths and often manipulators. Negatives are called negatives for a reason. They simply lack the capacity for a conscience, for empathy, for good. Do not pity them (they would not appreciate it). Do not befriend them (they fail to understand the concept). Learn to live with them (or they _will_ take the chance to instigate a takeover). Control them (and never doubt that they would do the same in a moment).

In terms of appearance, negatives vary immensely. The one limitation set upon them is that they must be human and biologically possible, with some minor exceptions. For example, a negative could have impossibly red irises, but not a third arm. Their hair could be a strange bright blue, but they could not be glitchy or inconsistent. Fangs would not be out of place on a negative; demonic horns and wings would be. You get the picture. The WATCH guidelines maintain that changes in 'eye or hair colour, skin tone, freckles or moles' are the indicators of a negative takeover. However, things like height, muscle mass and therefore strength, tattoos and the like could very well be affected variables.

Very little is known about the thought process of negatives and their feelings towards their host, as no negative would submit to questioning willingly - and their regular counterparts would understandably not wish to have their body tortured when their negative inevitably retreated. Even the few captured permanent negatives are uncooperative and sullen, or hyperactive and compulsive liars. Negatives spend a lot of time talking to their hosts, though, and it is understood through headache-inducing longer conversations that many negatives feel a strong sense of possession or an unfeeling duty of care towards their hosts - at least at first. Most people tend to tune out the selfish advice, snarky remarks and raunchy comments of their negative as a kind of anti-conscience. A 'what not to do' list.

Strangely, negatives can experience the same sights and sounds as their hosts, but during a manifestation (or 'takeover') the host loses all consciousness and memories of the takeover.

 

 **3)**   **The Takeover**

Around or on someone's eighteenth birthday, the voice in their heads from roughly thirteen years of age will be given a face. A familiar face. Their negative will manifest for the first time. Whether they see themself as a person is uncertain - they may share a face, gender and name with their new host, but their one-sided 'personalities' and often the rest of their appearance will be completely different. New negatives are often confused, rude and aggressive, but this depends on the person. All a brand new negative's knowledge comes from their host, so a naturally unsavoury person would likely have a more eventful first negative takeover - or just a 'takeover' for short - than a quiet and friendly young adult.

Over time, negatives invariably become obsessed with their host's well-being. Most of their silent comments will be advice, albeit violent, unempathetic and self-centred advice. When they manage or are allowed to manifest, they do so with less confusion than before and more a sense of what appears to be protection. During these first couple of years, a negative will spend its manifestations destroying items it perceives as threats to its host - but never living things. Punching and kicking, childlike tantrums - these are normal. But new negatives do not kill, merely protect. And overreact to moving things.

Whether this is born out of egotism and the preservation of their host's body or the last vestiges of a conscience is unknown, but this short period is what makes most people tolerate the existence of their negative without succumbing to insanity and a permanent takeover. That their existence was born out of a need to protect, if not possess, their host.

But this period of relative peace does not last long. Invariably, negatives will realise that they are second-best. That they do not control the body. That they are the rejected version, in body and mind. This is why most negatives have disorders like sociopathy or the bad kind of psychopathy on top of their intrinsic inability to love or even like someone. Curiously, consistently disadvantageous disorders like anxiety are never present in negatives whereas potentially useful but inconvenient problems like ADHD and the aforementioned psychopathy are often found whether the host has them or not. Maniacal laughter and illogical glee are common and unsettling.

At this stage, negatives will feel betrayed. Angry. This is the point they begin to diverge from what could be called plausibility. They gain knowledge of violent techniques their hosts would probably never know. The less believable aspects of their manifestations, like possible fangs, claws and tattoos, appear and never leave as the manifestation becomes stable. They become schemers, wildly aggressive or deceptively charming or something else entirely. This is when they become malevolent. This is when negatives are no longer traits and voices and occasional bouts of screaming with different-coloured hair. This is when they seek revenge on their hosts and the world for making them the parasites and not the hosts. This is when they are no longer afraid to kill.

A matured negative will commit crimes in their best interests, like robbery or strategic murder. They no longer blindly destroy, but make cold and calculated moves. They watch and manipulate and strike. Which is why you must always be on the WATCH.

 

**4) The WATCH**

The WATCH is constant. It has to be, because takeovers strike without rhyme or reason and can be attempted at any time during the waking hours. Luckily, a negative takover is easily identifiable by the below symptoms and takes from half an hour to hours to come to sudden fruition. If only a couple of the symptoms are noticed and willed away, the takeover will not happen and the negative will likely be too exhausted to try again. This can also be the result of a fakeover. In this case, helplines and negative control centres exist to stop people from succumbing and get therapy to deal with disturbing threats or close calls. But if someone finds themself suffering from three or more WATCH symptoms, it can be assumed that they have lost control and this relatively long period of time is ticking away. If a takeover is imminent, you must go straight to the nearest empty takeover container, inform its guard and submit to padded imprisonment until the frustrated negative becomes bored. After hours of relentless pushing on your psyche to achieve it, the manifestation is instantly reversed.

If you have been experiencing many takeovers in a short space of time or your negative did something that disturbed you when you came back into consciousness, go to the closest negative control centre for and check yourself in. According to the law, you may not be fired or penalised whilst in an NCC, however long it takes to make your negative brooding and submissive again. Any crimes committed during a takeover must then be punished accordingly as if you did them yourself, as measures are put in place for emergencies and it's ultimately your fault if your negative goes on a homicidal rampage. If your negative killed your own dog or smashed your own fine china in the relative comfort of your own timer-locked home, you'll be fine - if a little traumatised and perhaps significantly poorer.

 

**5) The List**

_'Negatives can be tricky things to spot as they don't follow a pattern. They can spring from nowhere and be very dangerous. **WATCH** for these five signs of a negative takeover._

 

_**Warmth:** Is the person's body temperature raised? Are they complaining of being too hot, or are they not feeling cold when everyone else is? Do they shy away from cold places or objects?_

 

 _ **Appearance:** Has the person's appearance changed suddenly? Have things such as eye or hair colour, skin tone, freckles or_ _moles changed?_

 

 _ **Twitch:** Has the person developed a_   _twitch or tic?_   _Have they adopted facial twitches, audible ticks, or twitches in other parts of_   _the body such as hands, arms and legs?_

 

 _ **Communication:** Is the person communicating differently? Has their accent changed, are they using different mannerisms to speak? Have they started using spoonerisms at random times, but not recalling it?_   _Are they talking in_  a  _dominant, possessive or inappropriate manner, unprovoked?_

 

 _ **Heart:** Has the person had a_   _sudden change of_   _heart? Are they suddenly cruel when they were not before? Have they started_   _voicing or showing thoughts of_   _violence or murder? Are they acting inappropriately to an abnormal extent, or without consent? Do they tease or taunt?_  

 

 _If you or a_ _loved one is showing three or more of these symptoms, contact a_   _professional or negative control centre for advice_ _on what to do next.'_

 

**6) The Fakeover**

The fakeover is a strange phenomenon, instigated not by someone's negative but the person themselves. In times of need, or times of want, a negative and a host will come to a temporary agreement to get what they want. A negative's most coveted dream is control, whereas a person could have many goals that a negative's unique skills might help with. When debating in favour of the topic at the top of the agenda. When running an important race. When simply having sex. At these rare moments, a human and a negative's goals are the same: be it overpowering others, superiority or dominance. And so a strong-willed host lets their negative partially take control, exhibiting all of the symptoms except Twitch and Heart.

This balance is maintained by the host using willpower to watch and steer the scene if needed, lending a conscience and empathy to the situation as well as a stable anchor to avoid twitching, but letting the negative manifest into their - usually - stronger physical form. The practice, dubbed a 'fakeover', is usually safe as long as two active consciousnesses don't share the same brain for too long. Regular fakeovers benefit both people and their negatives, as it gives a negative a chance to be controlling - which then lessens how often they commit to the effort of a full takeover, lessening the stress and potential danger that the host is put through from every few months to only a couple of times a year. Of course, anxiety attacks (and other periods of heightened emotions like arguments or literal periods) are also often the start of the several-hour wait for what is usually no more than half day of manifestation.

 

  **7) The Rule**

The rule of five, they call it. The five people closest to you, physically or mentally, and how their negatives interact with yours - an unimaginably complex global web. The Rule's reasoning is largely undocumented by infitialology (the study of negatives, or  _homo sapiens infitialis_  as they are scientifically termed), but the little information surmised through monitored studies implies

  * How the Rule works can change from person to person. For many people, Rulemates tend to be beloved family members or significant others. To others, best friends or trusted mentors are more usual. None of these options are strange or abnormal, but feel free to contact your local negative control centre if you feel like somebody inappropriate might be your Rulemate.
  * You will never be a Rulemate to someone you dislike or disrespect, even if you are theirs. The opposite also applies. The Rule seems to be operated by the unconscious mind, making being someone's Rulemate the highest compliment they can give you.
  * People who are mutual Rulemates - that is, person A is one of person B's Rulemates and vice versa - are proven to be more loyal to each other and less likely to argue, whether they are aware of the mutuality or not. This promotes peacefulness and friendship, because who would want to be temporarily excluded from that kind of bond?
  * As mentioned briefly above, Rulemates change. Throughout any one person's lifetime, it is estimated that: at least 3 of their 5 original Rulemates will have changed, their longest-standing Rulemates will have been demoted for over a month out of subconscious anger 210 times and they will have been diagnosed with temporary takeover disorder - TTD - 45 times.



This last point especially should be taken into careful consideration. Due to the one-way-street nature of the Rule, widespread takeovers can be impossible to avoid. The Rule's range, power and intensity vary too wildly from person to person to ever be predicted, sadly. Picture the scene.

* * *

 

'Tommy has gone bowling with his friends and potential Rulemates, Richard and Harold. His boyfriend Jay is staying home to study, and told Tommy not to worry about him. After a long car ride, Tommy is in the bowling alley on the other side of the city. As is only polite and safety-conscious, Tommy has informed his companions that he is currently counting down to a takeover. About an hour later, Tommy decides to check himself in with half an hour to go. His friends are sad to see him go, but suddenly realise that their biological countdowns have started in the same time-frame. A half-an-hour countdown from nothing is unhealthy in mature and seperated people, five hours below the national average and a cause for concern. All three of them make it to their nearest takeover container and spend a healthy 2-4 days incarcerated, after informing Tommy's confirmed Rulemate Jay. Jay just feels lucky he wasn't in range! Afterwards, all four of them celebrate - Tommy was a confirmed Rulemate of both of his friends and his boyfriend before hand, making them all mutual Rulemates with him. Jay and Richard never did get on, but they are content with both being Tommy's Rulemate if not each other's.'

* * *

Now, imagine this slightly more harrowing scene.

* * *

'Tommy, caught up in the heat of the moment, coaxes Jay to come bowling with their friends and loosen up. Jay agrees, and they're having so much fun that Tommy decides to put off spoiling the mood a little longer. Each of them silently does the same with their half-an-hour timers, forgetting what they've been taught. Their four unnanounced, simultaneous takeovers are sudden and bone-chilling, and the crowd scatters in terror as Jaybird, T, Rich and Harried are set loose on the bowling alley. Suddenly, Jay's brother Leo and Richard's girlfriend Kate in the adjacent tattoo parlour have fifteen-minute timers. Strangely, Kate's older sister Aurora (who is biking down the street ) feels the presence of a ten-minute timer. No more of Aurora's Rulemates are in her range, and she rushes to the local takeover container alongside Leo and Kate and barely make it in time. Meanwhile, the boys' negatives are shot at with humane tranquilisers and retreat, leaving the original hosts to be sedated. When they wake up, all four boys have huge damage costs to pay as well as criminal records for inciting a widespread Rule-induced takeover through negligence and reckless endangerment of human life. (The negatives are unmentioned. Necessary force was used to subdue them, as with any animal or human. It's not like they can say anything. They likely lack the ability to care.)'

* * *

 

This is why vigilance is so important.

 

**8) Additional Information**

  * Rarely, someone is born who suffers from MTD (mental tachyphrasia disorder) or similar disorders. These few and far between people can mentally converse with their negative. To clarify, they can 'talk' instead of simply sending feelings and imagery in the direction of their negative. Nicknamed 'talkers' by curious youths, these fascinating patients will often refuse experimental treatments and defend their symptoms as "a type of synaesthesia, not schizophrenia." In fact, the only symptom any of the few documented MTD sufferers has felt concerned about or been willing to take medication for is the risk of a permanent takeover. Unlike a regular PU, which is already a sobering thought, it has been determined through pupil dilation studies on captured permanent negatives that the host stays passively conscious during an MTD-induced PU. The pain of two consciousnesses sharing a brain is to most unimaginable, or experienced only in the moment before a takeover. Terrifying to think about, really.



**Conclusion:**

The problem with negatives is that they want power and control so much - yet they do not know what to do once they have them. This is one of the many theories behind the mindless and yet patiently planned-out violence of negatives. Perhaps one day we will know. How they can be violent but not self-harm. How they can be friendly but not make friends. How they can feel the emotional pain of being a nuisance at best but do not care what pain they inflict on others. How they know their names, but often give themselves strange monikers that perhaps even they don't understand.

To conclude, you must learn to accept and tolerate your negative. It is part of you, it in some strange way is you, and cannot be removed. When a takeover happens and you start to morph into the stronger, faster, different version of yourself, you must not feel jealousy or hate. Yes, your negative is evil. Yes, it would prefer that you went insane and let it instigate a permanent takeover. But it is so inherently ingrained in its make-up that you cannot blame it. Your negative provides balance. Cherish its existence instead. And always, always stay on the **WATCH**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Thanks for sticking with this, maybe now I can actually write haha


	2. I'm No Facsimile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a young man's negative begins to hate not only the world, but his host.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There isn't yet a universally-agreed dark side of Ethan, so I'm going with my personal favourite, 'Eaten'. I couldn't find his original design, but all you really need to know is...cannibalism. Fun times.

The world came into focus slowly and sharply, like the first dark cloud forming in an otherwise clear sky. For a while, Ethan just lay there and looked into the dimly flickering eye of the fluorescent light above him, feeling that strange mix of physical refreshment and mental exhaustion that was only ever preceded by one thing. A takeover. Looking down, he was surprised to see blood on his hands and smeared on the metal door, repelled by the smart padding of the takeover container. Self-harm wasn't part of a negative's psyche, except the masochists - his negative was probably just trying to get out and wreak havoc. ADHD was even more of a nuisance when your evil counterpart had it too, Ethan reflected as he sat up and yawned.

 ** _I_** **have _a_** ** _name, you know._** Speak of the devil. Literally. _And what would that be, Nuisance? Or maybe Violent?_ Ethan shot back tiredly, rubbing at the dried blood on his knuckles. There was no spoken response, just a sound that sounded suspiciously like a snicker. Ethan scoffed and ignored it, checking his jeans for negative blood. (The stuff was apparently identical to any other negative's - no DNA. Creepy.) His own hands were unharmed, but it looked like his negative's knuckles had split whilst he was punching the door. Great. After two years, you'd think his dark side would have figured out what takeover containers were for.  **I'm not stupid,** came the sulky reply from somewhere in his head, sounding slightly upset.  **I just want to get you out of that stupid cage, so we can go have some fun. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Anyway, I've been practising.** _I shudder to think._ Someone glanced through the peephole for a moment, and Ethan waved cheerily. "I'm clean!" The eye disappeared, and the door unlocked with a series of quiet clicks. The poor bastard. What a job.

Sighing, Ethan decided to leave his hands to wash up outside and leant against the padded wall with both arms folded.  _So_ you  _can go have some fun, you mean,_ he corrected lightly.  _It's nothing to do with me. Especially if you still won't tell me about your 'practising'. You're not meant to know anything I don't know!_ His negative snorted right back, and the silent sound was uncannily familiar. It was strange - he was constantly "hearing" that voice but he had no idea what it sounded like in real life. Apparently it was a little deeper than his, but he'd probably never know. Negatives had a tendency to smash cameras.  **On the contrary,** purred his negative,  **I am of you. I am in you. I am you, even if I don't always inform you of my whereabouts when you're sleeping.** The voice was jerky and snappy, as it always was when his negative got riled up. ADHD or just anger issues? It was irritating, either way.  **I'm the best you, Ethan.**

Ethan cringed, his hand falling from the door's rusty handle.  _Don't say my name._ There was no reply.

 

* * *

 

"Ethan! Why are you so late?! Everyone's going crazy - the rest of the waiters and waitresses are gonna kill you when they find out you're not ill. Do you know how stretched we are right now? There was a fakeover in the womens', and I'm not cleaning it up but nobody knows where the cleaner is so it's your tur-" Ethan held up a hand to stop the man's tirade, ignoring his negative's mocking chatter as he passed over the containment slip. His boss froze for a second, studying the note as if it would explode if he left it, before ripping it up with an audible sigh of relief. "About time," was all he said, "you were getting jumpy." He pointed to the walk-in cupboard with an insincere grin before someone called him over and he walked away.  **That's right, bitch. Leave us the fuck alone.** _Quiet, you._

And that was how Ethan found himself mopping up various bodily fluids from a toilet cubicle in the locked women's toilets of a shabby restaraunt.  **Classy.** His negative was clearly as bored as Ethan was disgusted, so the latter decided to spark up a conversation for once. Maybe it would take his mind off the...liquids he was cleaning. This was below his bloody pay-grade, which was not a sentence he thought he'd ever say.

Talking to his negative also had the added advantage of distracting him from whatever explicit scene the negative was currently describing in great detail. Thank fuck for that.  **And then you bo-** _Okay!_ Ethan yelled mentally.  _I can't take your freaky fanfiction shit any more. We can talk. Just no more improvised sex scenes with randomers, okay? Tyler would not be impressed, I'm sure._ **I've impressed Tyler well enough before,** grinned his negative. Ethan couldn't see him smiling, but he could sense it and rolled his eyes. _Ha ha. Anyway, that was a fakeover. I was in control, as you well know. Not my fault you can't muster up the willpower to be my clone more often._

It was only a flippant comment, but Ethan felt his negative tense.  **Is that really what you think of me? After all this time I've spent protecting you, advising you? I was just trying to scare you when I said I was you, you little bitch.**  Ethan went to reply, then thought better of it. **Why would I want to be you? I'm not your fucking clone. I'm no facsimile. I'm me. Like you, but better. Learn to live with it, bastard.**

 _Because I'm in control,_  Ethan spat inwardly, readying his own venomous monologue.  _That's why you'd want to be me. I thought that maybe you were different. That we could keep up whatever we have._  His negative made a distressed moan, but Ethan wasn't falling for it. _But you're all the fucking same, aren't you? Whatever name you've chosen for yourself, whatever violent fantasies you play out wherever you go when I'm asleep, you're my shadow. The worst version of me, not the best. And don't you fucking forget it._

The floor was clean enough, and his shortest shift of the week was over. Ethan dumped the cleaning supplies back in the cupboard and made the bus trip home in stony silence. They said separation was hard, but he'd never thought it would be this bad. He'd find comfort in Tyler's crooked smile, in old rom-coms where negatives only took over when it was thematically appropriate, in peanut-free snacks and tumblr.

He'd make it through separation, and then his negative wouldn't be so easy to pity and trust.  _You're not a person, you're not a person, you're not a person,_ he muttered in his mind that night, over and over again. His negative didn't reply, but Ethan knew he was listening.

**My, y...n-name is, is, is, is Eaten-n.**

The sentence came through like a Skype call with bad internet, patchy and fuzzy and head-splitting. As he cradled his aching skull and settled between Tyler's arm and shoulder, Ethan wept silent tears. Because he knew.

He'd lost him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that went in a different direction to what I had planned. I quite like it! If you do too, please take a moment to leave kudos or feedback to help me improve <3


	3. Verisimilar Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowie! Now the set-up's out of the way, we can introduce some peeps and get this mess of a story rolling. I didn't even plan this out smh

The next week was hell. At every spare moment, Ethan's negative - Eaten, he'd insisted raucously - battered at his psyche, desperate for a takeover. Tyler tried to keep a respectful distance, but every so often they would settle down to cuddle and Eaten would send a shrill scream echoing through his brain.  **M-mine! Y...you ne-ee-** **ed me! St-t-op it!** It didn't stop. When Ethan collapsed as he took someone's order to the kitchen, his boss sent him home. "You're useless like this, Ethan. Consider it paid sick leave, alright? When your negative settles, we'll welcome you back." With a glum nod, Ethan left his job (and his best distraction) behind him.

By Friday, he'd had enough. He wasn't sick or sniffly, but he was so exhausted that he'd drawn the curtains and buried his head in his pillow when Tyler got up for work. Eaten was still ranting, and his head felt like someone had jumped on it. He took a moment to listen to the feverish snarls of his negative, trying to butt in. **Y-you don't under-erstand a thing, yo-you do-gooder...idiot-it. I b-b-b-alance you out.**   _Just...be quiet._ **Am I not good enough, brat? W-would you rather have _Tylers_ 's neg-negative, is...is that it? ** _Please. If you care as much as you say you do._ **You're like a broken re-re-re-record. We're natural enem....enemies, you fucker.** _You're hurting me, please! Please...Eaten._

At that, there was a pause. The assault on his mind stopped, leaving behind a void once filled with pain. Ethan let out a wracking sob at the sweet sound of absolutely nothing, curling around himself. Then Eaten was talking again, but differently. Quietly. Ethan didn't interrupt.  **It's not my fault. I'm just trying to help you. You call us negatives, evil, bad, just because you're the originals. Did it never occur to you that maybe, just maybe, we're right? Being helpful, making others happy, letting friendships form - what does that do for you, Ethan?!**

Ethan barely reacted, even when Eaten crossed the line and called him by name. He was so, so tired - it was time to bite the bullet before things got worse. Reaching over to turn off his television, he ran a hand through his untamed brown hait and sighed. Then he let it all out. Everything he'd learned about negatives, about the separation process, about the monster Eaten would inevitably become.  **Shut the fuck up. You're lying, trying to scare me. I taught you well.** But Eaten's voice trembled.

 _I'm sorry. Look, now you know why we can't be friends. You don't get to choose this, and neither do I. I'm sor-_ **No. Fuck you.**

More emphatically, the negative repeated, _ **Fuck**_ **you. Are you trying to tell me you knew all along? Is that what you've been hiding from me in that little mind box of yours? That I'm going to hate you, and there's _nothing_ I can do about it?**  Ethan muttered his apologies over and over, but it only angered his negative more as he kept ranting. **That the only thing you ever liked me for - protecting you - is going to go away?! That's not fair! I'm real, damn it! I'm not some...some verisimilar man, made for you to toy with! And everything I'm saying, everything I'm realising, it just proves your point. Stop it! _Stop it!_**

As he talked, Eaten's voice became more shrill and piercing - almost scared. (Did he even know the extent of his predestined mania? He'd probably never be scared again.) His last exclamation devolved into a high, keening wail, and Ethan screamed out loud as the silent sound wrapped around his skull and squeezed. As surely as any stopwatch, he felt a biological clock ticking down the seconds to what should have been a distant date on the calendar. Less than a week after his last takeover, and by his estimate he only had a few hours. How the hell was he going to explain this to everyone?

 _It's not my fucking fault, Eaten! It's biology. You know you're not the host here, and that makes you the bad guy whether you like it or not!_ That was what he had been taught, that was what he knew was true. But all he could hear was desperate, confused sobbing and in that moment...Ethan didn't feel like one of the good guys at all.

 **Here's a fact for you. I wonder if they taught you this at your fucking schools. Of course they didn't. We're the horrible, nasty bastards, out to corrupt your angelic little children, am I right?** The words were spat with such venom that Ethan leapt out of bed and fell heavily to the floor, crying out in physical instead of mental pain as he wrenched his ankle against the wall. His...tattooed ankle? Oh, no. He'd underestimated. By a lot. Ethan lurched towards the door, springing the one-way lock as the world tilted sickeningly. The mussed hair falling over his eyes was bright blue, and everything seemed just a little bit smaller.  _No! No!_ His vision cut out, and he lunged blindly towards the emergency takeover alarm next to the lightswitch. He had time for one last thought -  _Did I make it? -_ before his consciousness began to fade, one last sentence swimming through...someone else's mind as he blinked out.

**Did you know we can't kill ourselves?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOST THE END OF THIS CHAPTER SO MANY TIMES YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW AAAAAA
> 
> Also I just started crying, I think it's because I'm tired but I feel so bad for Eaten why did I do this


	4. Serotinal Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick linguistics lesson with your friendly neighbourhood weirdo: The words I've been using for the chapter titles are mostly symbolic and usually a word of the day, which is why they're so unnecessarily complex. Serotinal, for example, means, "pertaining to or occurring in late summer," but its origin is in the idea of something happening late or or later than expected. As well as the timing of the fic, that's to do with how long Ethan and Eaten kept up their half-friendship, and their own battles. Is this getting boring? It probably is. Anyway, just know that a lot of thought goes into these things because I'm sad :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to save this as a draft super fast and needed to be over the character limit, so let it be remembered that the first iteration of this chapter was "Simsyesa nutsvkama". I'll never write that well again :'')

This time, his escape from sleep's clinging grasp was instantaneous. It was like soothing an unquenchable thirst with a waterfall of sights and sounds that threatened to overwhelm him, to messily bury him in a watery grave under six feet of churning water. Ugh, he was thinking in poetry. Ethan curled even further into himself, hoping to escape the waking world, but the damage was done. He looked up.

The first thing he noticed was his shirt, fashionably baggy as was practical in case of a sudden takeover like this. It was ruined. Limp strips of cotton fell from his back as he shifted, wet with half-congealed blood that was not his own. The torn cuffs were soaked through, and blood flaked from his uninjured arms like perverse confetti, like serotinal snow. The horror of what that implied hit him all at once, and Ethan's hands began to shake.

The second thing he noticed was the note. Shit. That was bad; notes were expensive. Scrolling on the wallscreen in an infinite loop, meaningless symbols behind a wall of bulletproof glass. Dragging himself to his feet and disgusted at how well-rested he felt, Ethan scrambled towards the screen to read the tiny font as it trundled along, line by damning line.

_Morning, babyboy_

Ethan smiled at that, despite himself.

_First off, your negative is a dick. He broke my phone screen._

Not so much now.

_And the gingerbread mug, and other old stuff. Just my stuff._

Jesus. Was Eaten...jealous? Ethan didn't even care at this point. He was too tired for anything except numbing exasperation and a sense of injustice.

_He wrote me a letter, too. His handwriting's even worse!_

Snorting, Ethan reached up to run a hand through his hair and found it crusted with yet more blood. He felt himself blanch and forced himself to bring his arm back down to his side.

_A lot of ranting about my negative and how he was better._

This again. Ethan frowned. What did that mean? Better than what? What the hell was going through Eaten's broken excuse for a mind?

_I'm not mad, btw. At least you locked yourself in, yeah?_

The first sentence was what he had needed to hear since the start, and Ethan let out a long shudder of a sigh. He almost missed the next line in his relief.

_-lain what's going on with your negative. Come home soon._

Well, _that_  was going to be a delightful conversation. Ethan could almost hear the dryness of Tyler's sarcasm, smell the dark aura of concern squeezing them both together. How could he tell Tyler what was happening in regards to Ethan when he didn't know himself?

_Love you, but we need to talk. Tyler <3 xx_

He turned away from the screen, clenching his fists momentarily over and over again. For the first time in a long while, Ethan was truly angry. He almost felt like a negative himself, such was the extent of the fury coiling in his stomach. Like some insidious snake, it waited and watched. But it all boiled down to Eaten's misdeeds. Eaten had overstepped his boundaries. Eaten had forgotten his place. Eaten had, Eaten had... **Eaten had done his job**. The wavering voice in his head was nonetheless mocking and cold, and if Ethan hadn't been so mind-bendingly furious then his heart probably would have shattered into so many rose-tinted pieces.

 _No!_ he screeched silently, not bothering with the normal rules of mental etiquette.  _You ruined my boyfriend's stuff, you ruined my mind, you ruined my job, you ruined my clothes.._ _.you ruined my fucking day, twice!_ Eaten sounded tired, but he reeled off boredly,  **Your boyfriend's a prick, your mind was already fucked up, you hate your job, that's your least favourite shirt and this is the most exciting thing that's happened to you in forever.** Ethan took a kind of inward breath to reply, but Eaten's voice was calm and 'loud', if a little raspy. 

 **It's too late, Ethan. It happened, whatever it is, like you said it would. I can't...I can't understand you any more. There's no point chastising me. I. Fucking. Despise. You.** Each listless word hit Ethan like a punch in the gut, delivered with as much malevolent force as his dark counterpart could master. The latter doubled over, eyes watering at the sensation of pain  _everywhere_ at once for a few moments - crashing waves that refused to break. At least his hands had stopped shaking.

 _Then I guess we're on equal footing,_ he spat in his mind once the pain had subsided somewhat. Eaten didn't even growl in response. Scrubbing hand soap into his hair and palms indiscriminately, Ethan made a decision. This wasn't going to happen again. He knew what he had to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yyyyyyyyes, this is a filler chapter. Don't be discouraged! "Little and often" is the mantra I'm following which is why chapters are so short <3


	5. Sweet Anhedonia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating  
> i'm not in a writing mood  
> i'll write now

The door creaked when he touched the handle. It never did that, and Ethan didn't realise he'd been scared by the tiny unfamiliar sound until he was on the floor cradling a sore foot. _Oh my God, I really am a mess._ **Wow, you are.** _Shut the fuck up I hate you so much, you're actually the worst, even for a negative you're a fuc-_

And then the door creaked again as it swung open and Tyler was there, already reaching down to pick him up and carry him inside whilst murmuring over Eaten's impetuous sarcasm. "Shush, it's okay. It's over, you're safe now. You're okay." After what felt like forever being treated like a contagious plague patient, Ethan wanted to curl up in Tyler's arms and never leave the house again. He wanted to cry until he couldn't, and eat so much ice cream his brain would hurt and Eaten might back off. He wanted to have sex for about a week, but he had never felt more exhausted. None of these things would really help his argument though, so he just sat quietly as Tyler raided the fridge for drinks.

"We need to talk, you said," he muttered, and it came out as a croak.  **Evidently you don't, moron.** _Can it._ Tyler didn't say anything until they were both sat in front of the TV, sipping from cans of cola. There was an old movie starting, and the channel narrator warned that the following film contained scenes that might not be suitable for those with epilepsy or excitable negatives. Ethan snorted and turned it off.

"We do," Tyler replied levelly, looking everywhere except Ethan's face. "What are you going to do about your negative? You can't go on like this, he's killing you...For my sake as well as yours, ca-"

"I'm checking myself in." He tried to make it sound like it was no big deal, like he was just going to the doctor for a check-up. That's all it was, really...right?  **Keep telling yourself that, fuckass.**

"L-Like fuck you are." His boyfriend looked angry, but Ethan could see the desperation behind those dark eyes. "You can't! You aren't...you aren't like the others, you'll manage. They don't know that. They'll take you away. They'll find out you're a chatter and do tests on you, or some religious nut will make off with you and call you the anti-Christ. You know this kind of thing happens! I'll never see you again!" The younger man was trying to listen, but one word filtered through.

"The fuck did you just call me?!" Ethan was enraged. Even Eaten seemed to radiate a kind of shocked silence. "I'm your fucking boyfriend, Tyler! I get it, you're upset. But...holy shit, that's just bad language. Do you really think that?"

"Think what?" The aforementioned boyfriend groaned, head in his hands. Ethan stood up.  **You fucking show him.**

"That I'm just a...a  _chatter._ Is that what you think of me?"

"Of course not, you're not like them-"

"There's a them now, is there? Fuck off!" he shouted. Tyler growled in frustration and stood up, only getting angrier when Ethan flinched.  **Oh my god, you fucking pussy. Just punch him or something.**

"Ethan, listen to me! I'm not going to hurt you! Don't say I'm talkerphobic, you know I'm not. I just...don't go. Don't leave me alone."  **Wow, what a needy bitch.** _See, we do agree on some things!_ Ethan shot back cheerfully before replying.

"I'm not risking this anymore, Tyler. I can practically see him in your face, and you're not even a talker. Remember that word? I'm checking myself in so my bullshit doesn't spread to you, as you well know. You're being a selfish bastard, and you can't fucking see it!"  **Ah yes, the sweet anhedonia of all negatives. The perfect scapegoats.** _Oh, fuck you,_ he muttered inwardly.

"Oh, fuck you," his boyfriend muttered between his fingers.

Ethan bit his lip. "I'm doing this for your own good, Tyler. And mine. I'll see you soon, yeah?"

"Fuck off!"

With a final sigh, Ethan nodded. He grabbed one of the emergency packs next to the door, stuck up both middle fingers and left.

Tyler didn't follow.  **Okay, moron. You've cut away that cancerous growth, now all you have to do is let me borro-** Ethan mentally laughed, a short and sharp and mirthless bark.  _Yeah, right. Just...fuck off for a bit, okay? Do whatever you do at night, I don't care and I know you don't care._ And then he was truly alone. It felt...wanting. Lacking. He hated staying up.

* * *

"What can I do for you tonight, darling? The containers are third door on the ri-"

"Oh, uh, I'd like to check myself in, please."

"Ah."

 


End file.
